The Queen Bee
by Palace of Ice
Summary: A one-shot about how Helen keeps her boys in line.


The Queen Bee

Nigel

When she first approached him he thought she was crazy but easy enough on his eyes that it made up for it. She was the lone woman at Oxford, surrounded by young men, college boys who saw her as fair game. As scandalous as it was for an attractive young thing like her to impose herself on an all-male environment, it was even more scandalous that she was asking several of them to work with her privately, behind closed doors, on her own secret research. The rumors alone were enough to satisfy the most prurient imagination, yet he found himself lucky enough to be invited to find out the truth about her and her 'boys.'

Imagine his disappointment when it was revealed to be research indeed, rather than the rumored bacchanalian revels. After this discovery he was sorely tempted to abandon the group, but Miss Magnus, or Helen as she insisted he call her, took him aside.

"Surely, you wouldn't leave us so soon? I haven't even had the chance to tell you what the research is about, and I must say, the project sorely needs a chemist of your caliber, not to mention, you really liven things up. A different perspective does wonders for work like this, and I had so hoped...oh, I shouldn't say it, it's so improper..."

The buxom blonde blushed charmingly and cocked her head coquettishly at him. Nigel grinned and avidly swept his eyes over the curves she was flaunting. He leaned closer to hear her better when she whispered seductively, "The rest of these fellows are such gentlemen, they're a bit boring for my taste, if you know what I mean..." She looked up at him mischievously, through her long blonde lashes and giggled when he tried to cop a feel.

He watched delighted as she swung her hips and with a swish of her skirts evaded his grasp skillfully. Glancing back at him over her shoulder, she teased, "I do hope you'll join me in this research. I'm so looking forward to...getting to know you better." She looked him over, stopping pointedly just below his waist and licked her lips slowly, then left him there, aching for more.

"What a vixen..." he muttered, adjusting himself. She looked ever so classy, the perfect lady, but under that straight-laced exterior she was just as lusty as a bar wench. His kind of woman indeed.

James

He never knew what to expect from her, and from a man as observant as himself, that was saying something. As her father's good friend he had watched her blossom from a slim maiden into the full-figured mature woman she was now, yet all along the way the development of her intellect remained the most fascinating part of her.

James enjoyed being surprised by the striking originality of her ideas and the connections she was constantly making. He theorized that it must be due to her status as an outsider, a woman genius was such a rare being, and it gave her a different vantage point, greater independence of thought, and perhaps greater motivation and courage to defend her work. Truly, she was an admirable scholar.

When she asked him to help her with her research she appealed not only to his own curiosity and desire for knowledge, but exposed her own passionate desire to know nature's secrets.

"James, this blood may have the potential to not merely cure disease, but to eradicate it! If turned into a viable serum it could extend life and even enhance the health of patients, giving them the strength to resist aging and disease. You must help me unlock it's secrets! It will be our greatest, most challenging and rewarding work."

Helen's eyes shone with a Promethean fire as she spoke. Her passion for knowledge and the power that it granted swept over him like a tidal wave. Finding himself outmatched, he nodded his consent. "Of course Helen. I will help you discover everything this blood has to offer."

...

John

This beautiful woman, seemingly so independent, obviously wished for a man to protect her, care for her and yes, even guide and direct her life for her. No one would believe him if he told them about Helen's hidden side, the soft-hearted, unsure Helen, who came to him in secret and asked him his advice.

"Is it wrong what we're doing here? Do you think it arrogant and unnatural to try and discover this secret knowledge, to try and defy time and defeat old-age?" She would ask him such questions, wondering if it were moral, wondering if it were safe, and he would gladly advise her, comfort her and guide her with a firm hand.

She seemed so childlike to him sometimes, her research little more than curious play, and he longed for, more than anything, to be a strong role model of upstanding morality for her. On the occasions that his advice was able to give her peace of mind, she was always so grateful.

Her blue eyes looked up to him so trustingly, he wondered if she knew how much he wanted to hold her small form in his arms and kiss her pink lips. If only she would consent to become his wife, then he would have the power to make her respectable and keep her safe.

...

Nikola

Helen had started out as his friend, a fellow outsider who became a playmate and partner-in-crime, someone to commiserate with when the professors were too boring and their fellow students too cold and scornful. But, she was four years older than him, and as he remembered from his days as a younger brother at home with his family, big sisters could be bossy. Not that he minded. If anything, he rather liked her domineering ways. Something about being treated that way by a woman, and a beautiful woman at that, was exciting.

And though she tried to keep her tone ladylike when she asked him to do something for her, he loved provoking her, making her raise her voice, order him about harshly and scold him. Best of all, when she was really frustrated she would get physical and smack his arm or elbow him in the ribs. She even once grabbed him by the ear when he said something particularly offensive and obnoxious. The thrill it gave him was indescribable.

Often he would fantasize about being Helen's servant or better yet her slave. She would be his terrifying Ottoman queen, and he would be brought before her in chains, recently captured from far-off Serbia. Ah yes, _Malika_ Helen had a nice ring to it. She would smile in that smugly superior way she had, force him under her skirt and demand that he please her, otherwise she would make sure he'd end up a eunuch. His fantasies grew stronger every day, and soon he knew, she would realize that he had no will of his own anymore when it came to her. Then she would really take advantage of him...

"Nikola!" She called stridently. He swanned into the room, hoping his leisurely pace would aggravate her and she would take it out on him a bit. "Yes, my sweet?" he drawled with a practiced leer, calculated to get on her nerves. She sighed and rolled her eyes at him, "Stop being a pervert and help me with this!" She waved her hand impatiently at the centrifuge he had built for her. "Move it over there." He sighed and attempted to budge the heavy piece of equipment. "Alright Helen, but I expect a reward for my efforts afterward." Helen scoffed and laughed at him. He looked down, trying to hide a secret smile. Yes, she was a handful, wasn't she.

... 

Helen

Her four boys, each with their own talents and uses, were so easily kept in line. In her, they each of them saw whatever they desired most.

Nigel saw her body. Playing the voluptuous man-hungry wench suited his earthy tastes so well. Stringing him along until he developed the necessary interest and enthusiasm for her work was hardly much effort.

James saw her mind. Engaging him in intellectual debate and scintillating conversation kept him in her orbit until his innate thirst for knowledge made him devoted to her cause.

John wanted power over her, to mold her to his will and shape her into the perfect little wife. He was easiest of all to manipulate. Flashing him doe eyes and feigning a feminine uncertainty convinced him of her deep need for his help.

Nikola wanted her to have power over him. No, that was inaccurate; she already had power over him. What he really wanted was for her to flaunt it, exert it, even abuse it. Being helpless before her will ever so obviously excited him. It made him in some ways the ideal help, but of course his provoking ways were his own way of trying to control how she controlled him. It was a delicate balance keeping him hooked, but he was worth it.

The game she played with all four of her boys was challenging at times. She had to keep giving just enough and withholding just enough. They required constant attention, but it was a challenge she enjoyed.


End file.
